


Something Unexpected.

by BGee93



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Pro Volleyball Player Tsukishima Kei, briefly mentioned sexual themes, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BGee93/pseuds/BGee93
Summary: Sipping slowly at the burning hot liquid currently held between his chilled hands, Hinata curls his knees up against himself. Moving them up until his legs brush against his chest. He leans back into the plush cushion of the armchair...Hinata glances over his shoulder at the long limbed middle blocker passed out in his bed. Blinking them open wider, willing them to wake up just a bit more so he can enjoy the view through less blurry lenses, he lazily trails his gaze over the exposed skin...





	Something Unexpected.

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited. I'm not dead just on a long hiatus.

Sipping slowly at the burning hot liquid currently held between his chilled hands, Hinata curls his knees up against himself. Moving them up until his legs brush against his chest. He leans back into the plush cushion of the armchair. 

It used to belong to his mom so it’s worn and everyone else finds it uncomfortable, but he adores it. Always has, even as a kid. He remembers nights where he couldn’t sleep so he would sneak into the living room with his blanket. He’d drape it over the chair and climb inside as if in a tent. Dad’s flashlight gripped in his hand, a comic in the other and he’s read in the comforting silence. In the morning his mom would find him tangled inside the blanket, hanging half off the chair and snoring away.

Blowing at the steam rising from the mug he smiles into the hot chocolate scent. An elbow rests into the armrest. His breath fogs up the frozen surface of the window next to his face with each soft and silent exhale. He’s so close to it he can feel the chill radiating off the chilly glass. His now sleepy, drooping eyes watch the flurry of cascading snowfall outside without actually seeing it. Hinata is too lost in the tangling webs of his own thoughts. Mind too occupied and racing with replays and vivid visions of the afternoon, which bleeds into the evening up to now, to see anything really happening in front of him.

In all honesty. he should be sleeping. They had an early practice yesterday morning and if he shows up half dead later today, he will most definitely be chewed out by their Coach. Again. 

Hinata wishes he was still sleeping right now. If he was, then he wouldn’t be drowning in his thoughts. Sitting in his favorite childhood chair. In his bedroom. Almost completely exposed to the cold winter air because he forgot to turn up the thermostat when he’d gotten home. In his defense, Hinata hadn’t been thinking clearly, about anything when he got home. His mind to preoccupied by the calloused hands cupping his jean clad ass. Long, taped fingers digging into him as they pulled his body upwards, closer until they were awkwardly grinding in his doorway. Hinata’s fingers gripping so tightly into the sleeves of Tsukishima’s sweat and snow soaked sweater his knuckles actually throbbed.

A gentle smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he shifts in the chair again. Aches and a dull burning remind him of the rough handling he’d gotten just a few short hours ago. Hinata glances over his shoulder at the long limbed middle blocker passed out in his bed. Blinking them open wider, willing them to wake up just a bit more so he can enjoy the view through less blurry lenses, he lazily trails his gaze over the exposed skin. Gulping back his lukewarm, sugary drink Hinata hums softly as he rolls the brown liquid over his taste buds. Deciding then and there that he’s finally found something that tastes better than hot chocolate…

Tsukishima shifts, his face drags over the cotton sheets until he’s facing the direction of where Hinata’s sits calmly. Slitting his eyes open he looks at the blob sitting by the window. The fuzzy, orange ball giving away the fact that Hinata is sitting up and watching him. Sighing he pulls a pillow down under his chin to give himself some leverage and he sleepily stares back at the other, despite not accurately being able to see him. 

They remain silent. Both sorting out their own thoughts and feelings of the turn of events they find themselves in. During high school they molded into a mutual respect for each other that was still filled with banter, jabs, insults and so on. But then they found each other through a neighborhood gym close to their schools. After graduating their paths crossed once again when they both tried out for the national team and managed to secure spots. But they never went as far as to call each other anything other than teammates.

So what now?

Tsukishima debated on reaching out to find his discarded glasses. His fingers twitched under the fluffy pillow as if agreeing with the thought, but he refrained from actually doing it. He didn’t want to see Hinata’s face. Too nervous, on the inside anyways, that there’d be some form of rejection there.

Hinata finished off his drink, set it on the ledge of the window, mentally hoping he remembers to set it in the sink before leaving, and finally looks away from Tsukishima. He rubs his bare, goosebump littered legs for warmth. The cold seeping through the window slowly overtaking the warmth he’d felt earlier. He chides himself for not getting up to turn the thermostat up, now too stubborn to get up and do it. 

He stuff his face into the material of Tsukishima’s sweater for leftover warmth. It’s not completely dry though, a slight dampness clinging to its fibers. It had been the first thing he’d found when he’d woken up though and the idea of wearing the lean blondes clothes had seemed like a good idea. Now it just feels like Hinata is hoping for too much. Hoping for more than he realized he even wants. A sneeze suddenly jerks through him and he subconsciously wipes his nose on the sleeve.

Tsukishima sighs again, heavy and long into the pillow, before he rolls onto his side.

“Get back in bed before you get sick,” he rubs a hand over his face. Wincing at the rough calluses and tape as it scrapes over him. As an afterthought he tags on a quick insult, a smirk twitching over his lips. “Dumbass,”

Hinata doesn’t bother responding. Chuckling low he pushes himself off the chair. The unease that had been settling in them both washing away as he sheds the damp sweater and slips back into the warm sheets. Tsukishima pulls the blanket over them as Hinata scooches himself closer. They lay face to face, breath ghosting over each others face. Tsukishima can finally see Hinata’s face clearly. At least as clearly as the moonlit snow allows, and his breathing hitches at how calm and content he looks as he just stares at him. It catches him off guard enough that his mask falls for a moment. Eyes widen and lips part in a silent gasp. 

Taking advantage of the moment, Hinata leans in and just barely brushes their lips together. It’s not a kiss, not really. More of just a press of their lips together but it’s enough for both to accept that something is definitely happening between them. Something beyond unexpected sexual tension and a quickie after practice. It’s something they never sought out but somehow want and need. 

Tsukishima slides a hand over Hinata’s back, thumb caressing the slightly chilled skin in barely there designs as he presses his lips into Hinata’s. Their eyes drift shut together as sleep begins to sink back in.


End file.
